


Fringe Benefits

by melonpanparade



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1912968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonpanparade/pseuds/melonpanparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin keeps on blowing his fringe out of his eyes, and it drives Jean mad.</p><p>Or, the one where Jean discovers that he has an Armin!hair fetish, and Armin knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fringe Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [here.](http://melonpanparade.tumblr.com/post/83206482273)

Jean notices one late summer afternoon, and in that moment, he can’t decide whether he hates or loves summer. The crowded, stuffy train has them standing in close proximity, and Armin pulls an exasperated face before looking up at his fringe to blow the long strands away from his eyes. It falls back into place, listlessly, and Armin repeats the action, this time with more force. Jean is close enough to feel the puff of warm air brush against his chin, and it shouldn’t drive him crazy, but it does. And somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he registers the way the summer heat and sweat causes clumps of Armin’s hair to cling to the nape of his neck. Heck, if Jean didn’t know that he had a hair fetish, he definitely knows now. And it certainly adds a new dimension to his attraction for Armin.

 

* * *

                                                  

The next time it happens, they’re in the middle of class. While the teacher drones on and on, Jean stares at Armin’s profile. From where he sits, he can make out the sheen of sweat trickling down Armin’s temple. Everyone else turns to the corresponding page in the textbook at the teacher’s request, yet Jean’s hands still in favour of observing Armin instead. His breath hitches in his throat as Armin juts out his jaw; the memory of the day on the train is so clear that he can easily visualise the frustrated expression on Armin’s face before he blows his fringe out of his eyes. Despite the muggy weather, Jean feels himself shiver. He doesn’t know how he’s going to survive the rest of the class.

 

* * *

 

Jean really doesn’t understand why Armin doesn’t use his hands to push his fringe away from his eyes. Or better still, pin it up, or have it trimmed, or  _something_. Why does Armin have to look so ridiculously endearing whenever he scrunches up his face, and there are so many other ways to remove hair from one’s eyes, so why does he have to choose that particular one? Really, this whole thing has escalated because Armin let his hair grow longer than usual. And then Armin glances in Jean’s direction, smiling sunnily. Jean forgets everything else, torn between brushing Armin’s fringe back for him and waiting to watch him valiantly try to blow his hair out of his eyes. He opts for the latter, and when it happens, Jean promptly decides that he doesn’t really care if he understands or not.

 

* * *

 

Self-control, Jean soon learns, isn’t really his forte. The two of them are returning equipment to the school’s sports room, and Jean is stretching to reach the higher shelves when Armin ducks under his arm to tuck some baseball gloves away in the shelves directly in front of him. The feel of Armin’s hair lightly brushing his forearm mixed with the heady scent of sweat and something inexplicably Armin plays with his senses, tantalising him. And so when Armin turns around and smiles at him, Jean can’t help but reach out to push Armin’s hair out of his eyes, and Armin lets him.

But touching Armin’s fringe isn’t enough. Jean’s hands find purchase in the shorter hairs at the base of Armin’s neck, where it’s warm and slightly sweaty. He’s not sure if it’s the summer heat or the poor ventilation of the room, and it doesn’t really matter because Armin is so close, with his mouth slightly parted as he looks up at his fringe, then at Jean. Jean feels Armin’s breath ghost across his face, breaking the remaining shreds of his self-control, and he kisses him.

“Fuck, Armin, you drive me insane when you do that,” Jean growls when they finally part. He studies Armin’s face, and groans when he realises. “Oh, bloody hell, you… you knew, didn’t you.” 

It’s a statement rather than a question, so Armin just laughs breathlessly and pulls Jean back for another kiss in lieu of a response, deciding to put off his haircut for a couple more days if this is where it gets him.


End file.
